


Boxing clever

by milkywaywide



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 09:45:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16447478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkywaywide/pseuds/milkywaywide
Summary: Ymir is all freckles against olive skin and stark yellow eyes—Krista often finds herself thinking she could play a game of connect the dots on her face.





	Boxing clever

Ymir is all freckles against olive skin and stark yellow eyes—Krista often finds herself thinking she could play a game of connect the dots on her face.

The fire roaring in front of them seems to lick at her eyes and the flames catch, no, _get caught_ in them, catlike and odd, making Krista feels warm both in the face and deep in her belly, in a way that makes her want to suck the air in. But the night is cold and it’s late so they go to sleep. She dreams of Ymir’s strange eyes and the secrets she won’t tell her.

In the morning, Krista looks at her reflection on the water—the plain, common, blue eyes, bright but uninteresting, and she wonders how could someone so boring and small as her ever catch those cat eyes, framed by freckles that make Krista think of the stars, forever dancing in the night sky.

* * *

Krista would never dare to make a move, for oh so many reasons, but Ymir does. They are huddled by the tiny fire they managed to build in spite of the wind and it’s burning angrily, refusing to be a victim of its circumstances, refusing to be blown away.

Ymir is sitting really, really close to Krista and nuzzles her neck, putting a hand around her waist when she giggles, and then Ymir kisses her, not on the lips, but right on the left corner of her mouth. Almost as if saying, “I’ve done enough, now it’s up to you”.

Maybe Krista’s reaching. But still. She takes Ymir’s face with both her hands, those terribly bright eyes and constellations of freckles, then touches her lips to her own. It’s sweet and quick and chaste and yet Krista feels her whole being heat up, from her cheeks to the very tip of her toes and wonders if this is what it feels like to be loved.

Ymir’s impossible after this, grinning insanely and tickling Krista, running her hands over her hair. Krista, in turn, is peppering kisses all over her face, wishing to kiss each and every freckle, thinking of all the words she can use to tell Ymir how she feels.

Their kisses grow and grow but that night they don’t do much other than just sleep together, legs and hair tangled, cheeks sore from all the smiling.

It’s a slow process but neither of them is in a rush, as they have all the time in world.

* * *

Ymir is all freckles against olive skin and stark yellow eyes—Krista often finds herself thinking she could play a game of connect the dots on her back.

So she does. Krista, no, Historia, traces her name on Ymir’s tanned skin, using the constellation on her shoulders and back as guideline. The stars, forever dancing in the night sky, finally right beneath her fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been cooking this for a ridiculous amount of time and today's the day, I guess (hooray for my insomnia?). This is most likely not my best work since I'm pretty sleep deprived but eh. Title's from Pure Morning by Placebo. Thanks for reading! <3


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